I am a FarmHer.

I am not bothered by extremes : heat that sends a current  of sweat stinging your eyes and makes your clothes and hair stick to you while you work: icy cold that numbs your face and cuts through the best coveralls while you milk your cows at 5 a.m. : mud that is halfway to your knees and sucks your boots off, never to be seen again.

I am a FarmHer.

I deal with angry bulls, spitting llamas, aggressive hogs , defensive geese and all manner of attitude from animals that could maim or maul me without much effort..and I am kind to them and giving and loving and receptive–the balance between ‘safe’ & ‘detached ‘ a spiritual struggle.

I am a FarmHer.

I have awaken at 3 a.m. to milk 7 cows before taking my toddler grandson for 24 hours, three times per week; homeschooled my own son, done the chores & fed the livestock on two separate pieces of land, kept house and cooked dinner and tended the children–alone, my husband traveling a lot.

I am a FarmHer.

I  walk into the darkness of the woods alone when the dogs tell me there is trouble.  I do not fear shadows or sounds I do not recognize–I fear what those unknowns may bring to my farm.

I am a FarmHer.

I do what is best for my livestock even when it hurts.  I make sacrifices of my time and myself even when I am broken and my aches are bone deep.  I ignore illness and pain and weariness.  I press on for them and push my own feelings aside for their sake.

I am a FarmHer.

I live a cycle of balancing farm & family, livestock chores and home chores.

I am a FarmHer.

I live in gratitude for what I have and curse what I cannot control; a constant contradiction.

I am a FarmHer.

I am not bothered by manure, blood, urine  or bodily discharges of any kind.  The sights and smells of death and illness do not sink me;  I do what needs to be done and break down when it’s over.

I am a FarmHer.

I suffer losses and grief and frustrations with my chin up, my shoulders square and a list of tasks that need tending running through my head, but when it is quiet and still,  I cry.

I am a FarmHer.     If you are a FarmHer, my sister, I salute you.